


it's not love but it's better than nothing

by zanthetran



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/F, I took canon and put it in my mouth and ate it and this is the result, but the rating might change if they get it on, this is a bastard child of a fic I'm not gonna promise anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26636095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanthetran/pseuds/zanthetran
Summary: It’s not an invasion (the Time Lord’s are very clear about that), it’s an invitation — a hand held out to a child, offering to help guide them up the stairs.They accept the help offered.The proposal isn’t even brought up until the merger is already halfway ready, and by then it’s far too late to back out.ora thasmin arranged marriage au
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	it's not love but it's better than nothing

**Author's Note:**

> listen, ive had this in my computer for almost 4 months at this point I just want it out there so I don’t gotta think too hard about it. this is not gonna be an ‘updated on a nice weekly schedule’ type of fic. this is gonna be an ‘updated in the middle of the night on a tuesday six months later and you forgot about it but you get an email about it being updated and you have to reread the first chapter because you can’t remember what happened before and only have a vague idea of if you liked it or not’ type of fic. you're welcome.
> 
> title from: fumes by eden
> 
> ch 1 title from: desperate measures by marianas trench

In the grand scheme of things, humans advance pretty fast after they invent computers, and it does slightly impress the Time Lords at how far they come in such little time with their still-primitive understanding of technology (“impress” like a parent is impressed with a toddler when they say “purple” correctly). They come to Earth shortly after humans advance to space travel and start traveling the universe, spreading themselves across the stars. It’s not an invasion (the Time Lords are very clear about that), it’s an invitation — a hand held out to a child, offering to help guide them up the stairs.

The Time Lords could wipe out Earth and the entire population with not much more than a snap of their fingers, that much is _very_ clear. So what do you do in that situation? Say no, risk offending a technologically advanced civilization, risk extinction? Or accept the “help” offered, accept that you don’t really have much choice in the matter? (What choice does a child have on what vegetables they eat or when their bedtime is?)

They accept the help offered.

The proposal isn’t even brought up until the merger (that’s what they called it, in the beginning. A “merger”, like a business transaction) is already halfway ready, and by then it’s far too late to back out.

Najia says no, absolutely not. She doesn’t even tell Yaz about it until a week after it’s brought up to her the first time, and by that point her hand is being forced and Yaz isn’t gonna let her mum quit her amazing government job just because they want _Yaz_ to marry one of the Time Lords (or one of the Time Lords’ offspring — it isn’t really clear).

She’s pretty sure it’s marketed to like everyone as a _unification_ of two species, a chance for the citizens of Earth to advance their technology to an unimaginable level in exchange for…well, Yaz isn’t really privy to that information.

Either way, a marriage. That’s what both sides decided, and so Yaz was chosen. Not immediately, but the men in positions higher than Najia are all childless and then Yaz was brought up, and then Sonya was brought up, and later on her mum told her all of this, saying, “I don’t think we’re going to have much of a choice, love.”

* * *

Her mum says they need to do what’s best to save their planet (their _planet_. Last week she was a PC, and now she’s _saving_ _the planet_ ). In the end she does concede, knowing if she doesn’t then some other woman (most likely Sonya) will have to go through it, and Yaz can’t let that happen.

Yaz doesn’t hold out much hope for the Time Lord chosen for her — and yet it’s almost the exact opposite of what she expects.

She expects a man, first off. Maybe tall, probably as uninterested in her as she is of him, hopefully a personality better than most of the Time Lords she’d met up to this point because if he’s as pompous and up in his own ass as the rest of them then it's going to be a _long_ life.

Instead (to her surprise and relief), a small blonde woman stands before her in long red robes, hand clutched around a bouquet of flowers — blue and gold and silver, Yaz assumes they’re from Gallifrey — and says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yasmin Khan.”

Yaz raises an eyebrow, looking down at the flowers then back up to her grinning face. She looks sincere and only her eyes start to falter when Yaz takes a long moment to reach out and take the flowers from her hand, careful not to touch (her mum said they were weird about touch for some reason).

“Thanks,” she says. She feels the eyes of her mother, of the two High Council members standing off to the side, and of everyone on planet Earth _counting_ on her. No big deal. She takes a deep breath and meets her gaze evenly. “The pleasure is mine, Doctor,” she says, exactly how she’d rehearsed earlier that morning.

There’s a moment of silence as Yaz takes her in; the robes look a bit too long as they hang down past the Doctor’s wrists, like they were made for a much taller person with a broader frame than her own. The stitching is intricate and impressive — gold thread makes circles and lines and dots in a pattern down the front the robes and around the wrists. The Doctor has a nervous sort of energy about her, eyes flitting about anxious and unsure, nothing like the way the Time Lords were described.

She’s heard the rumors, of course, when they’d first come to Earth and met with the President of the World, offering a hand in (what they assured) amity and goodwill. That they were cold, ruthless creatures. A race that looked human enough but held two hearts, powers of regeneration, a knowledge of technology and the universe that could destroy whole worlds (and _have_ ). Uninterested in the daily goings on of the lower end of their own people, and even less interested in humanity other than as a planet to shape and transform into their liking, to use to fight their own wars.

Gods, some likened them to. Creatures that sit back and watch time unfold, watch races kill and die and hurt each other and never lift a finger to intervene (what is _time_ to a Time Lord, really?).

Arrogant and self obsessed, in Yaz’s opinion, and she’s not looking forward to seeing that side of the Doctor.

* * *

“They eat, right?” Yaz asks, looking at her mother’s reflection in the mirror as she pins Yaz’s hair up.

Najia sends her a scolding look. Sonya laughs from the bed, scrolling through her phone.

“She’s hot. Could be worse,” Sonya says.

“Sonya!” their mum scolds.

Sonya puts a hand up. “I’m just saying. Least she’s a woman now. Heard she were a man before this.”

“What do you mean she was a man before this?” Yaz asks, trying to turn her head to look at her sister but her mum pulls on her hair, making her sit still.

“I gave you the file, Yaz. Did you even read it?” Her mum asks, twisting her hair and pinning it in place, the bobby pin digging into her scalp.

Yaz winces and watches her hands instead of looking at her face. “I read most of it.”

“ _Most_?”

“Almost half,” Yaz says, then quickly adds, “I didn’t have time! Do you know how many classes they’ve been having me take on history of the world and Time Lord etiquette — which is absolute bollocks, by the way.”

Her mum’s expression softens and she drops a hand to her shoulder, rubbing her shirt with her thumb. “I’m sorry, love. I know, it’s been busy,” she says, and though the words are different it sounds a lot like _I’m sorry you weren’t given a choice._

Yaz puts her hand over her mum’s, forces a smile on her face. “It’s alright, yeah? We’ll make the best of it,” she says, looking up at her in the mirror.

“I googled it — says they eat rocks,” Sonya says from the bed.

* * *

Dinner is filled with a lot of talking, all between the High Council and the Committee. The table is long and Yaz is seated between her mother and committee member Jameson (who she absolutely hates). The Time Lords speak in slow even sentences in very practiced English and they have the sense of humor of a paper bag. A wet paper bag.

They speak amongst themselves in a lilting tongue, all trills and soft sounds, but they never once speak or even acknowledge the Doctor other than in conversation about the union (that’s what they’re calling it now, a union). Yaz watches the blonde across from her as she grips her fork tightly in her hand every time they mention her without acknowledging her. Yaz feels probably as uncomfortable as the Doctor does and it finally becomes too much — the talking and negotiating and thinly veiled insults just become _too much_ and she loudly moves her chair back, standing up.

“Well, this has been a wonderful evening, but I’m going to take my leave with my new fiancée, if that’s alright with everyone.” She looks around expectantly but it wasn’t a question and even the Time Lords understand that. “Great, c’mon Doctor.” She locks eyes with the blonde and tilts her head towards the exit. The Doctor moves her chair back quickly, almost running from the table as she follows Yaz out of the building and into the large back garden.

“Sorry, looked like you needed a break back there,” Yaz says when they step onto the path going around the perimeter of the garden, lined by trees on both sides.

“I did, thanks,” she says, then furrows her brows and frowns. “I don’t like being told what to do.”

Yaz laughs loud and cynical. “Well then you shouldn’t be marrying me. Our entire life together is gonna be being told what to do.”

The Doctor shoots her a look that Yaz _knows_ means _I had no choice_ (and she knows that look because she’s seen it on her own face in the mirror more than once since she’d agreed to this).

They sit on a stone bench a few feet away from the path. “I didn’t have a choice either,” Yaz finally says, looking down the path.

The Doctor looks up at that, maybe shocked. Maybe she thought Yaz had volunteered or something — maybe she’d been told that.

She says, “I’m very sorry, Yasmin Khan.”

“Yaz. My friends call me Yaz,” she says.

“Yaz,” the Doctor repeats to herself. “Does this mean we’re friends now?” she asks with a slowly forming smile.

“S’pose so. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” At that Yaz stands from the bench and nods towards the building. “Bet the dinner’s over by now. Could probably sneak into the kitchen if you’re still hungry.”

“Do you think they have those…I’m not sure exactly what they’re called. They’re like yellow, sort of, and they’re little tiny squares.” She holds her thumb and pointer finger about 2 inches apart, standing up from the bench and following Yaz back towards the building. “They’re crunchy and —“

“Custard creams? Like a biscuit?”

The Doctor’s face lights up in an excited grin. “Biscuit! A custard cream — do you have those?”

Yaz shrugs, she really doesn’t know what food is stocked at this place. “Maybe. If not I could ask for some, or you could, probably. I’m sure my leaders would love for you to get the experience of a real human.”

The Doctor makes a face. “Not sure mine would like that. Not really the type to interact with human culture more than necessary. Think you’re all primitive creatures, no better than apes but with smartphones.”

“And you?” Yaz asks, a heat flaring in her belly. That was proper fucking rude. “What do _you_ think about us, Doctor?”

The Doctor stops and Yaz does the same. Her eyes are soft and she sounds like she truly believes the words she’s saying when she says, “I think you’re magnificent. Think the way you’ve persevered no matter what really shows true humanity.”

Yaz feels like a bucket of water was thrown on the fire in her belly and she doesn’t know what to say, so she doesn’t say anything at all and just leads the way again, back towards the building.

* * *

They don’t have any custard creams — Yaz spends almost ten minutes searching through the cabinets in the now empty kitchen while the Doctor sits on a stool against the wall, swinging her feet, laces from her boots dangling down to the ground.

She watches Yaz move easily around the kitchen and asks, “Do you cook, Yaz?”

“A bit, with my dad,” Yaz says, straightening up from where she was crouched in front of an open cabinet next to the stove. “Still live with my parents — or used to, anyways. Do you know if we’ll be living together on Earth or Gallifrey?” That should probably be a thing Yaz should know, considering they’re getting married in like two days. She really needs to read that file.

“Both, I think, though the wedding is s’posed to be in the Citadel.”

She’s going to an alien planet. Not how she ever imagined as a child, but it’s still pretty fucking cool. She’s never even been out of the UK let alone out of their solar system.

“Do you cook?” Yaz asks, leaning on the island between her and the Doctor.

The Doctor makes a face. “Oh, nah. Rubbish at that, me. Can make tea though! I read tea is a very important human custom in these parts.”

Yaz can’t help the laugh that bubbles up at the Doctor’s excited look at this information, like she was just waiting to be able to use it all.

“Yeah, I guess tea is a very important human custom,” she says, then pauses. “Wait, you read —“

A harsh tone in a language Yaz doesn’t understand comes from the doorway and they both shoot their heads up to see two of the High Council members entering, ignoring Yaz completely and talking angrily at the Doctor.

A red flush colors the blonde’s cheeks at their words and her face suddenly changes from the inquisitive but open expression she had with Yaz to something more guarded, closed off. Her jaw clenches when she stands and she flicks her eyes over to Yaz once, nodding her head politely before following them out of the room, eyes trained on the floor.

_Well that was bloody weird._

**Author's Note:**

> as always find me @zanthetran on Tumblr I'm not funny but I do write like books in the tags on posts so there's that also the tag for this fic is #amau


End file.
